


i will never believe in anything again

by cardinal__sin



Category: Supernatural
Genre: But also, Episode AU: s15e20 Carry On, Episode Fix-It: s15e20 Carry On, Fix-It, M/M, Near character death, POV Sam Winchester, POV Third Person, Post-Canon, Sam Winchester Centric, anyway, ask to tag??? i guess???, castiel ex machina, i Do Not Know if the two cas tags are different, if it sucks pls dont kill me i just have feels, mild gore re: rusty nail, should be a tag im just sayin, you get it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:08:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27746506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cardinal__sin/pseuds/cardinal__sin
Summary: So you guys remember how Dean died from rusty nail disease? What a funny dream haha am I right? Anyway here you go!
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 8
Kudos: 54





	i will never believe in anything again

**Author's Note:**

> i blacked out and now i have this. it's not beta read and i'm sorry in advance if it sucked but i just have FEELS man okay.
> 
> also title from (coffee's for closers) by fall out boy

It wasn’t supposed to end like this. Not for Cas, not for Dean, not for any of them. They were supposed to be Team Free Will, they were supposed to choose and chase and _live_ their own destiny.

And still, Dean is dying. He’s dying young, on a hunt, in his brother’s arms, just like he was destined to. Sam holds him closer, listens to Dean choke on his own blood as he keeps talking, because he needs to say everything, he needs Sam to know. Sam takes it all in and he promises whatever Dean wants him to promise because right now he cannot be enraged or blinded by his grief or his need for revenge – on who, he doesn’t know. Right now, his big brother needs him.

Somewhere deep inside, Sam always thought he’d survive Dean. When he left Dad and Dean to go to college he had to make himself familiar with the thought that his family was constantly a step away from death. He had to prepare himself. And then he got back in and _died_ and was brought back and then _Dean_ died and it just kept going on like that in an endless circle, but every single time he had to grieve Dean, Sam had meant it. And he was ready to move on, because that’s what he was supposed to do.

Not this time, though. This time he feels cheated. He just got back his brother and their normal – well, with Winchester standards – life and he’s going to lose it again. It feels surreal, like the weight of his brother in his arms and the sticky warmth of blood on his hands is a clever illusion, a mind game. Like Dean would appear the next second with a gun and a cocky punchline and shot the shapeshifter masquerading as him clean between the eyes.

It’s not happening, though. There’s no joke, there’s no deus ex machina, there’s no saving grace. Dean’s body is rapidly losing warmth and his voice keeps dying in the back of his throat, and somehow it finally hits Sam that this is truly it. That Dean is going to die here, in an empty barn in the middle of nowhere, impaled on a metal rod on accident by a clown-masked vampire. It’s a joke, is what it is. Out of all the things that could have killed Dean… This one feels like a cruel joke the universe is playing on them.

Sam begs Dean to let him help. He begs and begs and Dean says no and keeps him there with him, and he seems at peace, like dying in such a sudden and undignified way is no matter for him. Sam wants to tease him for it but it feels wrong to insult a dying man. So he gives up and lets it happen.

Dean asks him to tell him it’s okay, that he can go.

It’s not okay. It’s not fucking okay and Sam wants to stab something he’s so angry, and he wants to grab Dean by the shoulders and shake some sense into the stubborn son of a bitch. But he tells him it’s okay. Because for once in their life, it’s not him who needs Dean. It’s Dean who needs his little brother, the last of his family. He needs Sam to let him go.

And Sam does.

Dean’s hand falls from his and his head rolls onto Sam’s shoulder, lifeless and heavy, and Sam allows himself to cry freely now. It’s all crashing down on him now. Dean is gone. So is Cas. And they’re not coming back this time, there’s no way to free someone from the Empty, and Dean promised him not to try and bring him back. This is final, and his family left him there alone.

He clutches onto Dean’s blood soaked clothes and buries his face in his shoulder, holding his big brother close before saying his final goodbye. He doesn’t know how long he stays there and he doesn’t care – he’s lost in his grief, consumed by it, unaware of everything surrounding him.

Including the quiet flutter of wings.

“Hello, Sam,” a gravelly voice says behind him.

Sam whips around his head so fast his neck cracks painfully. Castiel is standing a few feet away, dressed in his trenchcoat, looking exactly like he always does.

“You’re not real,” Sam tells him, because Cas is dead. He must be hallucinating.

“I am,” Castiel states simply, “but there’s no time to explain now. Let me to him, Sam.”

“He’s _dead_ ,” Sam spits, “you’re too late.”

He can see the hurt in Castiel’s face. He wants to say _I’m sorry. It’s not your fault. You died. You couldn’t have saved him._ but he doesn’t. He doesn’t trust this Castiel, but the earnest plea in his voice makes Sam step away from Dean anyway, albeit unwillingly. Cas catches Dean’s sagging body with quick, sure hands.

“He’s still alive,” he murmurs, “I can feel his soul. He’s weak, but I can heal him.”

He looks at Sam.

“Will you let me?”

His eyes are wide and pleading and it’s obvious that he won’t do it if Sam doesn’t say it’s okay. Dean was ready to die. It would be selfish to bring him back, from both of them, but Sam can _feel_ just how wrong it is. Dean is supposed to live. He nods curtly and crosses his arms over his chest. Watches.

Castiel pulls Dean off the rod and slowly lowers him onto the ground. Sam tries not to look at the sharp piece of metal, glistening red with blood, and instead focuses on the way Castiel holds Dean in his arms, like he’s the most precious thing ever created. Castiel touches Dean’s face, his cheek fitting into Cas’ palm perfectly, and closes his eyes. There’s a sharp exhalation that sounds almost like Castiel is in pain, but he doesn’t let Dean go.

Not even when Dean coughs weakly and opens his eyes.

“Oh, that hurt like a son of a – _what_?”

His eyes fall on Sam immediately and Sam cringes from the look he finds in them: angry, confused, betrayed.

“Sammy, I told you not to try any freaky stuff to bring me back! I freakin’ –”

“Dean.”

Dean stops in his tracks and looks at the source of the voice that just spoke his name with such profound love dripping off each letter. _Cas_.

“C-Cas,” Dean stammers, “you’re alive? How?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Castiel smiles, “what matters is that you’re alive.”

There are tears gathering in his eyes as he looks at Dean with open adoration. Dean looks back at him, eyes still wide from shock and disbelief, lips moving without making a sound, trying to settle on what to say first.

Sam quietly takes his leave. They have enough to talk about.

* * *

The bunker doesn’t have a second toaster so Sam settles on making scrambled eggs for the three of them. The smell coaxes a sleep-rumpled Castiel and a furiously tired Dean to the kitchen and Sam passes them a plate each without saying anything.

When they got back to the bunker Dean all but bolted from Baby straight to his room, calling some bullshit excuse of “sleeping it off” or whatever. Castiel quite literally jumped out of the car to go after him, insisting that they _needed to Talk_. Sam could hear the capital T in his voice.

He also needed to talk with Dean. About everything said and unsaid between them, when they thought that was the end. But… Well, he’s used to Dean brushing death off just like that, and he’ll talk to him when he’s less preoccupied by sabotaging his own happiness. Until then… Sam will just have to cope with almost losing his brother (again) as best as he can.

So. Sam doesn’t have any misconceptions about their didn’t-get-much-sleep-at-night state. He knows there was nothing else but talking, hours upon hours of it, setting everything right between them. Fucking finally. After years of watching Dean deny himself the one thing that could well and truly make him happy, this closure is a blessing to all of them.

Besides, it doesn’t change much. Cas still looks at Dean like he hung the freakin’ moon and Dean still sits as close to Cas as he can, stealing little glances when he thinks Sam doesn’t notice. Castiel still complains about tomatoes and Dean still eats the slices off his plate with a fond, exasperated chuckle, and Cas still smiles at him with the warmth of a thousand suns.

The only thing that changes is the constant tension disappearing from Dean’s body, seeping away and giving space to a comfortable ease, where Dean isn’t scared to bump his shoulder against Cas’ when he says something funny, or to reach out and fix Cas’ collar for him, or to casually reach for his hand and link their fingers together. Because he can, now. Because he’s free.

And this is as good a start as anything: the three of them, free and ready for a brand new life. The beginning after the end, the promise of a better, easier life. Not safer. Sam doesn’t have illusions. Monsters are still out there and the world would always need people to hunt them. And they would be there, finally together for good, just like they were always meant to be.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! drop a comment or kudos if you liked it, or check out my other work [here](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cardinal__sin)! i'm on [tumblr](https://cardinalxsin.tumblr.com/), [instagram](https://www.instagram.com/cardinalxsin/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/cardinalxsin) as @cardinalxsin, come say hi :')


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